Speaking of Obligations.....(11) Mitakuye Oyasin

Baha'i Devotional Gathering in Zambia

Sitting here with my friends,

Mitakuye oyasin.

All my relatives,

All created things.

All those who have gone on.

The saints.  The Holy Ones.

We sit here with the best friend—

that Great Voice that speaks in my heart—

Sitting here we have a little coffee, a little tobacco.

We sit quietly and listen to the Great Voice,

remembering what we know (not much).

Remembering what is true.  What is true.

(eleventh in a series on The Long Obligatory Prayer.)

Speaking of Obligations....(10) too high...

birds drawn by Leonardo da Vinci

There are birds circling above, high, so high--

they are only the faintest palimpsest of flight.

I stand on this earth and look, look for them

'til my eyes burn with empty sky—

and still there is light.










(10th in a series on the Long Obligatory Prayer.)

Speaking of Obligations....(9) supplication

Three times my hands move up to mark

acknowledgement.

Three times ten fingers makes thirty

parts of me reminding each other

that life is short. 

Two eyes close before the certainty

of forever.

One mouth whispers into two ears

and all of eternity that

there is always more.

Speaking of Obligations......(8) Knocking at the Door

Locked door.  Closed gate. 

Brick-filled entrance.

Lowered portcullis. 

Standing. Holding still.

Endless patience.  Swollen feet.

Hunger.  Waiting. 

         

          Forever, if need be.

(Eighth in a series on the Long Obligatory Prayer. )

Speaking of Obligations....(7) the sunflowers

I love the sunflower dance.

In films that squeeze a day’s light

into my attention span

I see their heads move from east to west

in a pas de deux with the Sun.

My own limbs long for this sweet motion,

matching step for step the light around.

Perhaps with the right camera I might find

that even my hair has some inner rhythm,

has a way to keep up with sunflowers

dancing through an endless summer.

(Seventh in a series on the Long Obligatory Prayer.)

Speaking of Obligations....(6)

We survived a plague of strangers that year.

Wild-eyed and throwing words into the wind

they hastened across deserts and lonely streets.

Each stranger carried a small key and a tattered heart.

They didn’t speak to us and no one asked their names,

but mothers held children between trembling arms—

fathers loaded old shotguns and stood ready.

(Sixth in a series on The Long Obligatory Prayer)

Speaking of Obligations....(5)

They say we start each day on the dry side.

After dreaming all night of water

we lose our longing for the truth.

We ask for the bitterness of coffee,

the dark brown taste of tea. 

The sick sweetness of soda.

We swim in a murderous salt sea

and have forgotten our thirst.